Träskhäxa

mysticism melancholia

[traskhaxa]

An ominous glow emerging from the crevices 

Emanating an intensity that cannot be placed 

The power that flows through the wind

Striking with awe, it’s maddening

You cannot look away, not with your eyes, not with your heart, not with your spirit

Something primordial is alive here within the rocky enclave  

All that dwell here understand this, there is no question about it

Pulling, pulling, taking, giving, receiving 

This power of neutral raw nature, knows nothing of good or evil

It is, it is he, it is she

I’m full of love, this is a gift

I’m scared, i’m reckless, i’m bare and naked amongst the masses

This is no little nudge to a universal truth, it’s a forceful push

I’m not ready, I am ready, let me go home, let me stay, this is home

[traskhaxa]

Do you remember the yew? The air was cold And we were alone

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I am seated beneath a hawthorn tree Old gnarled claws spring from the base The thorns are keen, the aroma is sickly sweet The devas coo at me, I smile kindly, embraced by their seduction I am drifted into an oneiric trance I see my hands, I see my body, I see my spirit Floating in ebony rays Cast into a new realm, I look to a grand willow in the void Sitting amongst a sea of silver grass The the silvery strands sway in a gentle wind You are there beneath the willow, awaiting me, patiently still  It is only you, the willow, and the milky grass Swallowed by a stygian atmosphere I step towards you The earthen floor illuminates in an iridescent glow with each step You take my hand and press me close Leaning further to whisper in my ear An echo from the shadows We fall to the silvery earth In a tangle of flesh on flesh  We lay here, mesmerized Euphoria   My skin melts into the moss Limb by limb, I dissolve  Away from you, away from the iridescent earth  A glowing silhouette remains You are gone, the willow is gone, the silvery strands dissipate  I arise from the hawthorn  Hazy and bewildered The firmament lingers within the imaginal  Time has passed Two years, five years, ten years?  Lying beneath the hawthorn, I grasp into the soil Eyes peering towards the cosmos  The stars blink at me, and my memories fade away

[traskhaxa]

Frenzy The rain splashes on my face I rise from the earth and throw my arms to the heavens Yes! Aching with ecstasy  The cool drops slide down my chin to my bare breasts He heard me calling in the wind Yes! I spin in merry cheer The inebriation enlightens my core Warming my spirit The trees hiss and cackle with the wind They sway I sway  He notices my elation  and joins in merriment  Hand in hand Round and round The rain runs towards the sky  We rise upwards and out Far away Far away  Far away

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A L G I Z

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Slipping into sorrow once more Death will not come for me I will wait here patiently Wishing to become the sprite amongst the trees Free from the burden of this plane

[traskhaxa]

Thurisaz

[traskhaxa]

The disgusting truth of the weak willed heart seeks out ugliness in the outer world. Longing for an escape from the pain of heartbreak and an answer to the begrudged questioning. Releasing endorphins through the spirit. A push-pull of pain, pleasure, pain, pleasure, pain, pleasure, pain. An equally worthy companion in such acts of longing and ugliness is there to take your hand. Caress the need, soothes the sorrow, and empties the bucket once more.

“Maybe this is my salvation.” Both of us will preach

There is no relief in the devil's arms. There is no relief for the weak willed heart

Too full of grief. Too full of pain.

[traskhaxa]

Lunacy

[traskhaxa]

I feel that tonight is not the night. The cold brisk air has taken me through an abyss I was not waiting for. Abrupt and frigid. Iced and hollow. The landscape is sliding into a tide of decay. A decay that is full of life in itself. Grey and crimson blush. No, tonight is not the night. I weep with the clouds and scream with the trees. I will not leave my somber and longing. He approaches my den, but I do not know how to answer. “Come, come! I am ready and I hear you!” My will beckons. The whimpers in deep stand still with somber and longing. I’ll hear him in a vision and that will be where I land. “Child, do you see the land is weeping and the curtain is withering. I AM HERE.”

The perpetual eve grows and I know now is the time. The charcoal sigil is painted on my altar, the amber flame awakens. I await an ominous apparition. like the grey and crimson blush.

[traskhaxa]

I’ve felt the great awakening, yet received little A false hope glimmers with eager awaiting Pushed down with a whimper “Live again little one, let the pain of desire grasp you once more!” Crowning my dismay with the dripping wax of Spring Awaiting a year of novelty